


Justice of the Empire

by Morgyn Leri (morgynleri)



Series: Their Name Is Death [4]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Don’t copy to another site, GFY, Jedi are not your friends, Other, mind wiping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 08:49:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17362853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgynleri/pseuds/Morgyn%20Leri
Summary: Let them fear and hate her. Let them tremble at the thought of drawing again the attention of her General, or the dark-siders that have bowed beneath his strength. Those who have not lost to the Jedi will not understand what she is building. What she struggles to rebuild for herself.





	Justice of the Empire

Her memory will forever be fragmented, shattered by the Jedi, and remade by Sith. By her General, her Assassin. The conqueror of the Empire that spread out from the planet which had once belonged to another. Their first conquest, and the first blood that stained her hands to build a sanctuary for the broken and the bitter whose lives had been twisted by Jedi and homes had been destroyed.

She sits on a throne made of molded and carven wood, stained dark in the whorls and lines that decorated arms and back. As if blood had gathered there from where it slid from her hands and his. A fitting throne for an Empress who had begun her rein in death.

Advisors bring her news of the planets which are secured in her name, the praises sung for their freedom from the Republic - and the later murmurs of fear for what their new masters might want. She will hear it all, no matter the hesitation of some to tell her that there are those who have no love for the policies that come from her on her bloodied throne.

Let them fear and hate her. Let them tremble at the thought of drawing again the attention of her General, or the dark-siders that have bowed beneath his strength. Those who have not lost to the Jedi will not understand what she is building. What she struggles to rebuild for herself.

To build once more a place where no one will ever again touch her mind and rip from her what is left. The name that she clings to with the ferocity of an enraged rancor, the love of beauty, the need to protect her people from what would destroy them. The people she had failed when the Jedi shattered her mind, and who had fallen to the greed of Jedi and Senate. Died in the ruin of what had once been her beautiful home.

The doors to her Hall open, interrupting another report of new unrest, Maul coming in with two of his dark-siders trailing behind, a bound figure between them. Silver-haired and tall, black gaze boring into hers, with a tight collar that keeps it from being more than that. Dressed in the finery that was a pretense as much as the simplicity of Jedi robes.

"Dooku." Her voice still holds the cadence and majesty of her lost world, another thing she will not allow the Jedi take from her again.

Maul doesn't stop, marching up the steps of the dais to take his place at her right hand, just behind the throne. Where he could lean in and speak quietly to her, or simply look menacing to her advisors and enemies alike.

"For the anniversary of your rebirth, my Queen." The day he'd taken her from the Senate, and left only a crashed shuttle heavy with blood and fear and pain for the Jedi to find. Too mangled and slagged for them to expect to find more than DNA traces.

Amidala tilts her head in acknowledgement, her attention remaining on Dooku. His fate was sealed when he was brought here by Maul, the only thing remaining was the manner of it. By her hand, certainly. She could remember Dooku as the one who'd always come to her in the Senate, sometimes with Maul trailing after him like an obedient puppet, hiding in his own chains. Knew that Dooku was one of those who had a hand in her shattering, though that was nothing more than fragmentary flashes of memory.

For that, she would repay him with her own justice, her own vengeance. There is no room for mercy in her court, in her Empire, not for those who would take a person's very being from them.

Standing, she holds out her hand, waiting for the hilt to be placed in it. The blade made for her, to be the symbol of her rule and her justice. Red as the blood she was willing to spill to protect her people, her Empire, and her person.

The dark-siders holding Dooku forced him down to his knees with some struggle, to submit to her justice. Holding him in place with the Force as they step back, silent witnesses to the moment, as are the advisors now mute with familiar fear.

"Jedi Dooku, you are here to answer for the harm you have done to our person and to our people. For the destruction of memory and of planet." She looks down to meet his gaze, holding the unlit blade in front of her, waiting. "Will you speak to these charges?"

"Your rebellion against the Republic will not go unpunished, Senator." Dooku's voice is smooth and polished, his tone the careful gentleness of a parent scolding an unruly child. "You should cease this foolishness, and return home, where you can begin to heal from the harm the Sith has done to you, once you have accepted the justice of the Senate."

"The Senate is nothing but a puppet body for the Jedi." Amidala doesn't let the rage she feels color her voice. "Neither has authority here. The penalty for the charges against you is death. Will you speak to those charges?"

"I have done nothing wrong. The damage to Naboo was at their own hands, and no doing of mine or the Republic. No one laid a finger on you, Senator."

Amidala tilts her chin up a little, letting her anger seep into her voice as ice freezing in cracks of stone. "I am a Queen, and I shall not submit to the Jedi construction of my being. You were the instrument of that once, and here, you hold no power to do so again."

She walks down the steps, robes and crown creating sounds that echo back to her as rattling bones and dry leaves in a hot wind. Death made form, the blade coming to life with a familiar hiss and snap - snakes and broken bones. Dooku's eyes have only a moment to widen before she swings the blade, cutting through flesh as easily as through air, and sending his head tumbling across the floor.

"Justice be served." The thin voice of her head advisor breaks the silence, the words ritual and rote, a comfort to those who have not met the fate of the condemned.

Maul takes the blade back when she returns to her throne, placing it once more where it belonged. There were few deaths here when he was not present, for few dared to challenge her authority now.

"Continue with your reports."

She listens to them begin slowly to speak once more, as Maul's dark-siders remove the corpse to incinerate it, and the head to be returned to the Jedi as a reminder that she would not brook their intrusion into her Empire. She will not be subjugated again.


End file.
